Matchmaker
by MoonyLilyPadfootProngs
Summary: Somehow, Professor McGonagall, unknowingly, or perhaps knowingly, ends up playing matchmaker, every now and then. (Assortment of pairings - spanning all generations).1. Jily 2.Katie and Oliver 3. Scorpius and Rose. 4. Andromeda and Ted
1. Lily and James

**DISCLAIMER: J K Rowling owns all of this. **

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Professor McGonagall sat in her office, sipping on her piping hot tea. A tad of ginger, and a spoonful of sugar; that's what made it just right. The Victorian windows were wide open, and a gentle breeze was playing outside, that she found particularly comforting. Before her, sat a bundle of parchments, waiting to be corrected. Usually, she wouldn't have kept it pending for so long but for some reason, she felt like sipping her tea, and just relaxing.

Alas, it wasn't to be a very relaxing day, for there was a knock on her office door, and McGonagall had to open her eyes.

"Come in," she said after setting her tea aside, and putting the essays away.

A slender girl, with perhaps the most inquisitive eyes she had ever seen, stood before her.

"Miss. Evans?" she asked confusedly.

The girl before her, turned slightly pink before saying, as politely as possible, "I've been assigned a detention with you, Professor."

Sufficed to say, McGonagall was shocked. Contrary to popular belief, Lily Evans had had detentions before, but the occurrence was so rare, that McGonagall felt compelled to ask for a reason.

"I...I may have set Camilla's hair on fire," Lily replied softly.

"On fire?" asked the Professor calmly.

Lily nodded slightly, and suddenly became highly interested in her crudely painted red toenails.

Minerva McGonagall sighed. She was hardly in the mood to reprimand one of her favourite students, in fact she was in quite a jolly mood. She asked Lily to sit down, and pulled out a few sugar cookies from her desk and set it in front of the girl, before offering her one.

"May I ask _why_ you set her hair on fire?" she asked after a moment.

Lily shifted nervously in her seat, and reddened again.

"She was helping someone with their potion."

"Well, Miss Evans, as far as I know, that's hardly a punishable offence."

"Well, he - I mean they, didn't need help."

"_They_ told you that?"

"No, but...but it was a fairly simple potion."

"Miss Evans, not everyone has a natural prowess for Potions."

Lily blushed to the roots of her crimson hair and shook her head vigorously, as if trying to say that she didn't mean that at all.

"Miss Evans, you –"

"She's not even good at Potions," yelled Lily exasperatedly.

McGonagall simply raised her eyebrow slightly.

Lily buried her head in her hands, and groaned almost silently.

"I still don't see a compelling reason to burn someone's hair," said McGonagall after Lily decided to remain silent.

"She kept helping, and he - they didn't want it, it was clear she was flir-she was acting highly improper. Disgusting behaviour for school. I thought I should ...uh..punish her. That's all," finished Lily lamely.

McGonagall picked up a sugar biscuit and bit into it, looking into the emerald eyes of the girl before her.

"Miss Evans, if Miss Davies was helping someone else, would you have done the same thing?"

Lily Evans, the smartest witch of her age, looked like someone had turned on a lightbulb in her brain. A look of realization dawned upon her pretty face. She covered her face with her hands once more, and shook her head pathetically.

"Oh no, no, no. I swore I wouldn't fall for this. I can't. It's ridiculous. Preposterous. Absurd. Ludicrous. Farcical. Nonsensical. Senseless. Outrageous. Risible. La -"

"I think you've made yourself quite clear," interrupted the Professor.

"Everyone else has. I promised myself I'd be different, I'd not let it happen to me. Not me, not me. I hated the _idiot. _Well, I didn't. I was supposed to. But I was so good. How could I let it get to me? How could I possibly...Oh god, this is terrible."

"Terrible?" asked McGonagall carefully.

Lily Evans didn't seem to hear this.

"Miss Evans, there's a fine line between love and hate," said the Professor loudly.

Lily looked up at her Professor and stared at her for a while.

"Sometimes there are somethings we can't help. It's….as they say, up to destiny."

Lily looked shocked as her Professor (who never let them believe anything was up to fate, and absolutely loathed Divination) spoke about destiny.

"There are people we love to hate. And then there are people we hate to love. You must decide between the two," the Transfiguration teacher finished triumphantly.

Lily tucked one loose strand of hair behind her ear, and closed her eyes, contemplating what she had just heard. When she opened them, there was a grin etched on her face, that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remove.

Professor McGonagall stood up and said plainly, "You may leave now."

Lily glanced at the large clock hung on the wall, and grinned even wider when she realized she had barely spent ten minutes in the room, and her detention was over.

Professor McGonagall, sensing her groundless happiness, said clearly, "Miss. Evans, your detention will be tomorrow at eight, in the trophy room."

The grin from Lily's face faded as she thought about the numerous awards and medals stored in the room, courtesy of the_ idiot_ and many others. It was soon replaced by an expression that was a strange mixture of pleasure, delight, and nervousness.

Lily made her way out of the office, and muttered a small thanks at the door. McGonagall sighed as she noted the door had been left open, and got up to close it. She looked at the retreating figure of the girl running towards the staircase, her little skirt flying behind her. She glanced at her watch and called, "Miss Evans!"

The girl turned, the long mane of dark red hair whipping around, as she raced back towards the office.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Mr Potter is on the quidditch field."

Lily's eyes widened in shock, and she let out a small gasp, blushing for the umpteenth time that day. Then, her shock turned into delight, as she let out a soft giggle, and went off in the opposite direction.

"Oh, and Miss Evans?"

The girl stopped once more and turned.

"I think you owe Miss Davies an apology. It's hardly becoming of a woman to set another's hair on fire," said McGonagall matter of factly.

"Whatever may be the reason," she added with a close lipped smile.

Lily sounded slightly embarrassed as she said, "Yes Professor."

Then, she turned, her hair flying behind her, as she ran towards the quidditch pitch, giddy, thought Minerva, with joy; drunk in love.

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**A/N:** Thinking of doing a collection of one shots with McGonagall and what better way to start than with Jily? If you have any couple in mind, which is canon, or possible canon, I would love to know, because I need ideas. Please tell me what you want. **Requests** and prompts are accepted and welcomed.

Next is **Katie and Oliver**, because I'm suddenly very obsessed with them. **Reviews will be hugely hugely appreciated. **


	2. Katie and Oliver

**DISCLAIMER: Don't own it.**

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Today; the day Minerva loathed the most. Career counselling day. Trying to tell teenagers with raging hormones, burning passions and unfulfilled desires to do _anything _was next to impossible. There was also the fact that they had a mind of their own, and were less than likely to pay attention to a teacher in the last week of school, when they'd rather be snogging their partner, playing quidditch or in general wasting time. However, it was strictly within school rules to have Career Counselling day, and no matter how hard she tried, Minerva could never escape it.

So, she nodded patiently through hours of students filing in, listening to their dreams and giving her advice here and there, whenever she felt she had to. She was thoroughly tired by the end of it and realized she had three more seventh years to see. She sighed loudly, and pushed a few loose stands of hair back, pinned them tightly to her head, pinched the bridge of her nose with her bony fingers and then lifted her glasses up slightly before calling out loudly, "Wood, Oliver."

The well-built captain of her Quidditch team made himself through the door and stood before her. "Take a seat, Mr Wood."

The boy of seventeen, whose cocoa coloured eyes matched his closely trimmed hair, sat down after a moment's beat and looked directly at the Professor.

Minerva closed her eyes for a second before looking at the boy, or perhaps man, in front of her and said, as calmly as possible, " Mr Wood, what do you have planned for your future?"

"Quidditch," he answered plainly.

Minerva chuckled to herself and shook her head, "What _exactly_ do you have planned?"

"Well, I reckon I'd be a keeper for a team."

"And what team is that?"

"Errr…I've applied to a couple of places, whichever team takes my arse in, I guess."

"Language," said McGonagall tiredly and watched as Oliver turned a light shade of red.

"But what is your dream team?"

"Puddlemere United. At least, for now."

Minerva smiled slightly before heading onto her next question. "Mr Wood, is there anything else you would like to accomplish in life? Other than being a keeper, that is."

"Yeah, I'd want to be the Captain of the team," said Oliver proudly.

The stern lady in front of Oliver shook her head once more and let out a tired sigh. Oliver wasn't sure what to say, so, he did what he always did, kept quiet.

"Other than Quidditch?" she asked.

Oliver's eyes turned as big as a quaffle. He looked at his Proffesor in a mixture of confusion and offence. He peeled his eyes away from her and sat up straighter looking over at the Quidditch pitch.

"Nope."

Minerva was internally pleased, if one has a dream, one must stick to it, was her motto. But perhaps it was the time of the day, or the way Oliver was too obsessed with quidditch or maybe she just wanted to have fun, for, on that day, she did something she had never done before, something that had never really captured her attention before. She asked the quidditch captain a personal question.

"And when you grow old, who do you intend on teaching this sport to?"

Oliver looked more confused than ever. He shook his head as I to say, I don't understand.

"Who taught you Quidditch, Mr Wood?"

"Oh, that would be me dad," replied Oliver easily before suddenly realizing the impact of the words his Professor had said earlier. His face turned a deep shade of violet, and his eyes could no longer look up as Minerva grinned.

"Well….I….err…I've never given it that much thought."

"Obviously," said Minerva.

When Oliver spoke no more, she ventured further. "Not much thought. But some?"

Oliver turned redder by the moment. The usually suave, uber confident Captain, fumbled.

"I….er…well….someday, maybe."

"Hogwarts is not merely about academic knowledge. It is the all-round knowledge that we hope to impart to our students. The knowledge of the importance of family, love and friendship. Are you saying that we haven't imparted this to you yet?"

"No, no, of course, you have. I mean, Hogwarts has."

"But yet you only dream of Quidditch," said McGonagall quietly.

"That's not entirely true," said Oliver after a moment of thought. "I do dream of me coming home to my little blonde kids for some Haggis, and teaching them to fly, and catch the snitch, and –"

Oliver stopped when he saw a smile form on his Professor's face that was honestly starting to creep him out.

"I wasn't aware that you've been dyeing your hair all these years," said McGonagall with a smirk.

It took a moment for Oliver to realize what she had meant, but when he did, it seemed like he might just turn into a puddle and dissolve in himself.

"Ummm…I didn't…."

"I believe that is all," said McGonagall with finality in her tone.

"Professor, I –"

"It appears to me that you have your professional life mapped out perfectly, as I have seen over the years, and am sure you will do well. On the other hand, your personal life –"

Oliver made a sound somewhere between a croak and a squeak like he had wanted to say something but thought better of it.

"- requires some attention, which hopefully you will provide. Remember Wood, it's just a game."

Oliver stood obediently at the corner of the room, eyeing his Professor (who was fiercely competitive) weirdly as she told him quidditch was just a game. He wanted to argue. It wasn't a game, it was a living, his life, and so much more but the shock of the next sentence, made his intense need to argue, die away.

"She has Herbology now, and then a free period. I suggest you start working on it, right away."

Minerva watched as Oliver's mouth opened in a weird way. It reminded her fondly of Harry's first quidditch game, when he had swallowed the snitch and won the game for Gryffindor. However, as time passed, Oliver resembled swallowing a fish more than a small, albeit ridiculously fast, ball.

Minerva rose to her feet. "Well, Mr Wood, do you expect a present? Perhaps a kilt?"

This broke Oliver out of his reverie, he hated the kilt joke. But he hardly thought of it, as he nodded his head, muttered a thanks, and rushed out of the door, running towards the greenhouses. His mind was reeling with thoughts.

_Katie, how did Proffessor McGonagall know, Katie, his teacher was really observant, Katie, he really anted to kiss her, Katie, was he really that obvious, Katie, he was pathetic, Katie, did __Proffessor McGonagall__ mean that he would do well, Katie, would he get into his dream team, Katie, he had to stop thinking about Katie, Katie, that wasn't working, Katie._

Minerva watched as a burly looking boy headed out to the greenhouses, his robes flying behind him, running to meet fellow team mate. She sighed softly, and pressed her fingers to the window. Young love, wasn't it beautiful? It was always the most meaningful. Perhaps, the most understated, but beautiful relationship. Love was what they all needed right now, just a little love, to make them through the war. It hadn't started yet, but she knew it was inevitable. The Dark Lord was rising. Love. That's what won it last time, right?

She smiled proudly as she remembered fondly it was hardly 15 years ago that she had sat another oblivious girl in her office, and made her realize that she was in love. That love had been so strong, it had saved the world. Well, almost. She sighed again, as she shut the curtains, and pulled out the Daily Prophet to read of the recent escape of yet another Azkaban prisoner.

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A/N: Well, here is Katie and Oliver, just like I promised. Not too sure how I feel about the last two paragraphs, but I wrote them all the same. So, it would be really helpful if you told me whether it was necessary or not. Katie is blonde, according to me.

Anyway, thanks to wonderful Williukea, I have many ideas to choose from for the next chapter. But I would still like to know, exactly which one you'd like to see next.

Reviews are craved, constructive criticism is hugely appreciated, and prompts/ideas are really helpful.

Thanks to all my readers, followers, favouriters(is that a word?) and reviewers. Hope you liked it!

~ MoonyLilyPadfootProngs


	3. Rose and Scorpius

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned the wonderful series, there would be a lot less Harry, and a lot more Marauder adventures.**

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There was a rapt knock on the door, on a particularly nasty Sunday morning. The weather was gloomy, and to make matters worse, Minerva had a rather painful headache, which refused to go away. Shaking her head disbelievingly, she told the knocker to come in.

A pale haired, sharp featured boy walked in, his robes trailing behind him, and stood before her.

"Yes?" she asked sharply.

"I wish to have a word with you, Professor."

She subtly concealed her surprise, and requested the boy to take a seat.

She raised one arched eyebrow, and motioned for him to start.

"Well, you're the headmistress," the boy said awkwardly.

"I'm well aware of the fact, Mr Malfoy," she said curtly.

"I was hoping you could – er – help me out."

"As Dumbledore once said, help will be given at Hogwarts to those who deserve it."

This didn't seem to encourage the boy very much, instead, he shifted nervously in his seat.

"The summer holidays are coming up soon."

"Mr Malfoy, I beseech you to stop stating the obvious," said Minerva rather rudely.

Dear, she thought, the headache was taking a toll on her.

"Right, right," said the boy nervously.

He ran his fingers through his pale blonde hair, that very unlike his father, was dishevelled, and it seemed to Minerva, he had purposely made it that way.

"I wondered if you would allow me to stay in the castle for the summer."

McGonagall laughed, something not many students had witnessed before, and looked at him strangely.

"Surely you don't mean this?"

"I do," said the boy seriously.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mr Malfoy. You know that's not possible."

The boy gulped and looked at her with pleading eyes, and she couldn't help but look away, as she said shortly, "I'm sorry, but it cannot be done."

She could see Scorpius' slightly hopeful expression fall, and his eyes deaden.

He composed himself in a matter of moments, and looked at her politely.

"Thank you, Professor. Sorry for wasting your time."

"Why do you want to stay here for the holidays? Surely you want to meet your parents," asked Minerva suddenly.

Minerva wasn't one to entertain family problems, life stories or involve herself in idle chitchat, but the fact that a student, the first one in all her years as a teacher, had asked to stay at the castle, all alone, intrigued her.

"I'd rather not," he said plainly.

"Very well," she replied.

"But let me tell you, parents are more forgiving than you can think, but less than you hope," she added with a trace of a smile.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew my dad."

"I do," she replied plainly.

You don't know what he's really like. He'd flip out if I told him what I want to."

"Indeed, your father has a tendency to over react to certain situations," she said carefully. "But do not forget, that he has survived a war, one in which he chose the wrong side. He has learned greatly from his mistakes, I assure you that. You may not believe it, but your father is not that man he used to be, no matter how much he may try to act like it."

Scorpius looked slightly more cheerful.

"And I know Astoria, she will make him see sense."

"Mum's real good like that," said Scorpius affectionately.

"Understanding is the first step to acceptance," said Minerva quietly.

Scorpius shook his head, in denial. "It's just that, if I tell him about her, he'd kick me out. He would never have it, never."

"Well, has he told you that?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure. That's why I haven't told him."

"Are you ashamed of this girl you want to tell him about?"

"No," he said immediately.

"Why would I be? She's perfect; beautiful, and smart, and sarcastic, and caring, and..." he trailed off, blushing furiously as he remembered who he was talking to.

"Well, I suppose you should tell her that."

Scorpius looked up, confused.

"Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, a lot of love is lost. Do keep that in mind," said Minerva clearly, before her lips turned slightly upward and she stood up.

Scorpius stood up, too, his face grateful and appreciative as he understood the impact of the subtle message his headmistress had concealed under her wise words. For once in his whole life, he truly understood the brilliance of Minerva McGonagall.

He nodded his head politely at her, dismissed himself with a small thank you, and ran out of her room, laughing as he raced to the owlery. First, he would tell his father he was inviting his girlfriend for the summer brunch, and then he would head out to invite her.

He wondered a little nervously, what would happen, if Rose met his grandmother.

_"Hello," Narcissa would say, ever falsely courteous._

_Rose would smile back, and chirp "Hi!"_

_"We've never been formally introduced, but your grandmother killed my sister," Narcissa would say, her voice void of any emotion._

_"Well, I suppose she deserved it. She did try to kill my aunt."_

_"Well then, welcome to the Malfoy Manor. Half-blood aren't you?" his grandmother would say, wrinkling her nose, ever so slightly._

_"Yes, just like your sister's grandson," Rose would retort._

'Perhaps it would be better, if I made sure they don't bump into each other," thought Scorpius, a tad bit scared.

* * *

Minerva chuckled lightly as she saw the blonde haired boy stand at the end of the corridor, deep in some mix of an amusing yet dreadful thought. As she saw him proceed towards the owlery, she sighed happily.

Once more, her office had been a sanctuary to a confused child, and yet again she had provided him with an answer. She felt quite pleased with herself, but told herself crossly, not to let it get to her head. It was difficult, though. She felt an odd sense of pride, when she could mend relations, or perhaps build a bridge, where there has been no civilization for years. In her own way, Minerva believed, she was helping reform the wizarding society, and of that, she would remain forever proud.

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A/N: Hi, all you lovely readers! So, my third chapter is up, wohoo! Right, I'm not so sure how I feel about this. I know there is not much about the couple in play, and a lot more of like a family problem. But you see, in my head, Rose and Scorpius don't have many problems realizing they love each other, but more problems with familial acceptance. Anyway, those are my thoughts.

**I would love to know what you think, so please review. (: **


	4. Andromeda and Ted

**DISCLAIMER: Same as before.**

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Andromeda Black glanced at the crisp new parchment attached to the notice board in their common room.

_Head Boy and Head Girl accompanied by Prefects must report to empty classroom on the second floor next to the Charms staff room at 1.30._

Andromeda sighed softly, and stuffed some of her books into a bag, and headed off towards the second floor. There were twenty minutes to the meeting, but the pretty brunette decided she could finish some work before the meeting commenced.

"Miss Black," said Minerva cordially as a slender girl entered the classroom.

Andromeda Black looked up, slightly surprised that the room wasn't empty. "Professor," she acknowledged.

"Have a seat."

Andromeda nodded politely and sat down on the nearest chair that happened to be rather uncomfortable.

"Professor McGonagall," came a rushed, out of breath voice from behind her.

Andromeda whipped around to see a tall boy standing at the doorway, his bright eyes fixed on the Transfiguration teacher as she made her way towards him. He hasn't noticed her yet, or so she assumed.

Minerva made her way towards the boy whose golden brown hair was carelessly tousled and had his shirt half tucked in, and raised one eyebrow sternly.

"Yes, Tonks?"

"There's a problem. Professor Flitwick asked me to inform you. Bellatrix Black and Rabastan Lestrange were caught almost using the unforgivable cur –"

Minerva looked at the boy strangely as he looked away from her, and instead to the other occupant of the room, who was leaning towards them, trying to catch every word. Minerva noticed he gave her a small smile, before proceeding to talk to her in hushed tones.

"- Curses on second years. So they've been assigned detention with you today at 7.00."

Minerva nodded curtly, and thanked the boy, who smiled politely back, and chanced a glance at the girl in the room, before jogging off towards the library.

Minerva noted as she sat down that there was a faint pink tinge in the cheeks of the girl sitting opposite her. There was also a trace of a smile on her face, and Minerva was rather sure that she wasn't the cause of it.

"Miss Black?"

The elegant looking girl shook her head, as if to break herself out of the reverie and looked at her teacher.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Did you happen to hear what Mr Tonks just said?"

Andromeda turned the colour of beetroot but Minerva didn't break her penetrating gaze.

"I-uh...I wasn't trying to...I sort of heard it...I'm sorry."

"No matter. No matter. I suppose it is better that you know the truth, rather than garbled versions others may give you."

Andromeda forced a smile on her face.

Minerva cleared her throat slightly. "I know this may be none of my business, but, do you agree with what your sister believes in?"

Andromeda sighed and looked around the room tiredly.

"No, I don't. And Professor, I know you're going to think I'm just saying this because I'm taking to...well, a teacher. But I really don't."

"Well, just as well. The white sheep of the Black family," said Minerva, with a trace of a smirk.

"Funny," said Andromeda dryly. "My mother calls Sirius that."

"Well, that's hardly unexpected of her," said McGonagall wryly.

"Did you know her, Professor?" asked Andromeda, faintly curious.

Minerva closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose. Andromeda noticed that despite being in her thirties, Minerva seemed to be much older. The skin around her eyes hung loosely, as though too tired to be taut. The lines near her lips had increased indefinitely over the few years, and in that moment, Andromeda wondered if her teacher had ever been a young, carefree girl once, at all.

"I did. She was a year younger than me. Slytherin, of course."

Andromeda nodded, with a small laugh.

"She had a well – peculiar – shall we say, idea of the wizarding world, and blood purity and whatnot."

Andromeda scoffed. "Well, I assure you Professor, she hasn't changed. And Bella is just like her."

"I take it she isn't too happy about you, and...uh...your feelings towards...a certain boy?"

Andromeda almost broke her neck as she looked up rapidly at her teacher, her face slowly turning a deeper shade of red than it already was. '_Salazar, was she really that obvious?' thought Andromeda hastily._

"I...uh...she doesn't really know," replied Andromeda nervously.

"Well, that's hardly the problem, is it? The dear boy doesn't know either, does he?"

"I…uh…I – er – I've sort of –"

"Miss Black, the woman who follows the crowd will usually go no further than the crowd. The woman who walks alone is likely to find herself in places no one's ever been before."

It took Andromeda a while to understand what her Professor was trying to convey. When she did understand it, she shook her head sadly, and said. "I know. I know, I just...I'm scared. My family. They won't...won't accept him for who he is. And –"

"Sacrifice is inevitable. But, know this, no one likes a rebel without a cause. Before you do something, you must always think about it. But in the end, it does well to follow the heart."

Andromeda closed her eyes and couldn't help but smile. She stood up, smoothening the creases on her skirt.

"Professor, do you...do you know the boy?"

Minerva looked like she was about to smile, but instead she raised both her eyebrows and spoke solemnly.

"Well, I wouldn't be so arrogant as to assume that I know exactly. But I have a fair guess, and I'm guessing," she said, glancing at her watch, "that you'll find him in the library if you leave soon enough."

"But Professor, the meeting," said Andromeda nervously.

"Well, I'm sure there are plenty of excuses, but if you need some help, I'd suggest the Prewett brothers. Merlin knows they have some excellent ones," replied Minerva with a trace of a smile.

Andromeda positively beamed and ran out of the classroom, yelling a thanks as she left, before racing towards the library with her chocolate waves bouncing behind her.

Minerva sat back down, and waited as the Prefects and Head students filed in, the mood abuzz, as she started handing out the instructions for the week. The whole while, there was a pleasant expression etched on her face as she figured she had helped someone listen, and perhaps, follow their heart.

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A/N: This one shot is for Williukea. (: And my PM isn't working today, so I'm sorry if I haven't replied to any messages yet.

Well, some Tedromeda! I'm all for forbidden love this week. It sounds so amazing, doesn't it? Which is why I've started a story called Forbidden, that is a Scorose story, so please check it out.

Right, so for next chapter, prompts, ideas, couples you want me to do? Please request something, so I can come up with the next chapter for you!

Oh, and don't forget to review this chapter! I really do love reading them. (:


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